Guardian Angel
by JustAnotherIndividual
Summary: Reid is being stalked. It started off harmless, but soon, it becomes an insane obsession. She protects him because she is his Guardian Angel..
1. Small Acts

**Guardian Angel**

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><p>Her fingers traced down the jaw-line of the photo as she swallowed, slowly pulling back her fingers to touch his short, golden, hair.<p>

"You're perfect.." She whispered in the silence of the room, standing before her closet door where photo were tacked, straight in a professional manner. "You're beautiful..genius..perfect."

Her thumb slid down his neck and a sudden shock of ecstasy ran through her spine. She sighed dreamily and let herself fall back into the dark violet blankets, grabbing them quickly with a large smile plastered on her face as she stared at the ceiling, filled with blown up pictures of the man she couldn't stop looking at.

"..I don't care if you ever know I exist..I don't care if you even think I'm ugly or weird..I just want to be there..in your presence...in your burning halo of perfection...my love.."

He was everything she ever wanted.

"You're mine..and I think you'll find I take very good care of things that are mine..you'll never be bothered again..." Her voice trailed off before standing up to stare at the newspaper articles all about the man of her dreams, in perfect wooden frames, hanging and covering the entire wall.

"Dr. Spencer Reid.."

* * *

><p>Reid cursed beneath his breath at his utter ignorance as he ran through the rain, trying to find a decent cover. He shook his head and blinked furiously at the morning sky, covered in dark, ominous, clouds.<p>

"I knew it was going to rain..how could I have forgotten an umbrella?" He whispered clutching his leather messenger bag in aggravation before dashing to the next cover, as many people were doing.

Many people forgot to watch the news when they had to go to work so early.

Street lights provided some sort of light, however, not enough, and accidentally, he slipped. He gritted his teeth as he felt the sharp stinging sensation of a cut open up on his hand, and looking down, he discovered it wasn't exactly small.

It was a long cut, stretching across his entire palm, and to make matters worse, it was deep.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. Any other person might would swallow and push back a few tears, but after being shot a few times, this could be considered nothing, easily.

He found nothing to wipe the blood on and instead leached his hand, hoping this would cause the blood to clot more effectively and lessen the amount of blood.

Footsteps came in hurriedly behind him as he made it to the next cover, and through the bleak, heavy rainfall, he saw a relatively young woman who looked to perhaps be only a few years older than him.

"You fell..are you alright?"

Reid raised an eyebrow, "Oh, yes. Thank you, but I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I'm a nurse, as you can see." She replied motioning towards her scrubs with a small smile, "I have some supplies here, if you'd like for me to take a small look see?"

He shrugged a little, "Sure..I mean, I think it could probably use a bandage or something. Thank you, very much."

"Oh, it's not a problem." She replied with a quick smile and nod before opening up her bag with a large red cross. " Let's move over here." She whispered as she led him to a metal bench underneath a cover, next to a small boutique.

"Alright, let me see.." She whispered before he held his hand out, the blood covering every inch of his palm.

She made a small hissing sound, "Ouch..what did you hit your hand on?"

"..The curb, I believe."

She shook her head before smiling, "Did you forget an umbrella?"

He laughed lightly and nodded, "Worst part is, I knew it was going to rain. I just forgot."

She laughed and nodded before cleaning her hands with an anti-bacterial towelette, and then pulled out another from the packaging and did the same thing with his own hand, applying pressure to stop the bleeding.

"I have to ask, sir, might you be Dr. Spencer Reid? I've read tons of articles on you."

He blinked a moment, "Yes, that's me."

"You're quite impressive, I must say...This cut is deep.."

"Thank You..and, how deep do you mean?"

"Well.." She murmured, "I'm just glad you allowed me to assist you." She then quickly probed the wound for anything possibly inside, and quickly took out some gauze. "I would usually suggest stitches but..think you can go without them." She whispered as she put some anti-bacterial cream on the cut and quickly applied the bandage material, wrapping it around about six times, covering the entire palm.

"You'll be fine, hun. But try not to slip anymore." She replied quickly before closing her bag and throwing away some of the papers and packaging into the disposal can beside them.

"Thank You, a lot..."

"Marsha. Marsha Bakers."

"Thanks, Miss. Bakers."

She nodded and handed over her umbrella to him, a solid black dripping wet, umbrella.

"Oh, I couldn't. But thanks again." Reid replied, standing up, the cut on his hand still sore and throbbing.

"Oh, no, I insist. I have a car. I just saw you slip while driving and pulled over. I have another one in my car, don't worry about it. I would hate to think you slipped and fell again all because you didn't have an umbrella."

Reid smiled in thanks, took the umbrella, and this time, walked, towards the FBI building, as he did every morning.

As the young agent finally made it into the meeting room, he realized he was the last to enter as he sat down carefully.

"You..okay?" Morgan questioned with one raised up eyebrow, a small trick he learned from Reid himself.

"What? Yeah, I'm fine..why?"

Morgan made a gesture towards his hand and as Reid looked down, he had forgotten that he had ever even been injured, despite the fact that it was still throbbing.

"..Oh. That? I just slipped this morning, in the rain, on my way to work, a nurse was there and..well she kind of insisted that she help me. She was nice though.."

Morgan sat back with a smirk, "Was she hot?"

Reid looked alarmed and blushed deeply, "I didn't pay attention to those sort of details.." He whispered quickly, looking about the team for support, but found that everyone was simply smiling as well. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Morgan raised his hands in defense.

"Reid, she was obviously just trying to hit on you. I mean, come on. How bad could the cut have been?" JJ finished off with a light smile of innocence.

"..she suggested stitches.." Reid replied with an uninterested expression as though to say, 'I won.'

"Oh." Murmured Morgan,

"Do you think you need them? The case can wait a few hours." Hotch replied shortly, with a look of slight concern.

"No, we can just start with the case. I'm fine, really."

"Alrght." Hotch replied quickly, taking out the case files and sliding it onto the desk, "Multiple kidnappings have been taken place in a few different states, all of which is thought to be done by the same person. All of them are children, taken from carousel rides. The next day the children are found dead, strangled and burned across the face with a cross."Hotch summarized quickly as they each took a file and began pouring over the contents it held.

"Why a cross? Is this person possibly a religious fanatic?" Morgan suggested, looking at the victim's small faces, eyes closed with a cross burn across the left cheek of the face.

"More than likely." Added Hotch.

"All of the victims are boys, were there any signs of sexual abuse?" Emily questioned with a careful look at the children.

"All of them, yes." Hotch replied with a slight wince on his face, rarely did cases ever affect him, however, the faces on the photographs of the small boys, simply strung a chord.

He couldn't imagine one of those photo's containing the small, fragile form of Jack, a cross burned onto his left cheek, cold and dead.

"They were all found dead at the park they were kidnapped at. That shows signs that he finds the children to simply be disposable. He kidnaps them, does what he wants with them, and then burns a cross in their face as though it symbolizes he's been forgiven for what he's done. He drops them back off at the park as if he never did anything. Maybe he's' trying to forget it, the cross symbolizing he's moving on.." Reid spilled out quickly with a shrug, "It's only a guess though.."

"A good one, though." Rossi admitted as he re-situated himself in his seat, cocking his head to the side as he stared on at the victims.

"Then there's the numbers written on each of the boy's shirts..They aren't done in any order as far as I can tell. So it must be a code, two, is the first number, three, is the second. Then he continuously does this, two, three, two, three, two, three...If you put them together, it makes the number twenty-three."

"So?" JJ questioned not fully understanding just yet.

"Well, Reid continued, "He takes two boys or sometimes three boys at a time. But two and three together, it again makes twenty-three, and finally he performs his kidnappings twenty-three days apart.

"Okay." Morgan replied, face confused.

"Explain, Red?" Hotch replied.

"Well, theres actually a huge conspiracy against the number twenty-three. Many are terrified of the number twenty-three, it's even considered to be a rational phobia. Some, though, are intrigued by it and devote their lives to studying it. Followers range from Hitler to Buddha."

"Okay, that's nuts.."Morgan replied, shaking his head, "So, what can we inference off of that?"

"Well, most conspiracy theorists are kind of anti-social, not too keen on going outside, but they have to make money somehow, so they usually do online things. Ebay and craigslist. Stuff like that." Emily said.

"Right, but he also clearly knows where and how to snatch these kids from parks. So we're looking for someone whose pale if white, anti-social, has no kids, but hangs around kids parks with carousels. He probably doesn't maintain himself very well considering this much of the profile." Morgan finished off.

"We should probably talk with all of the kids parent's, right?" Rossi questioned, looking to Hotch who nodded once in agreement.

"The parent's were all part of a support group, not unlike the last case we did having to do with child kidnappings." Hotch replied, "we need to get all of their phone numbers."

Reid looked back down at the bandaging, beginning to fiddle a certain string that had come off from the side of it, and when he looked back up, he was greeted with the face of Garcia on the computer screen, her blonde hair up in a bee-hive, her bright pink make-up and large smile greeting him happily, even in the early mornings.

"Good Morning my babies!" She announced loudly,

"Garcia, Garcia.." Rossi mumbled, shaking his head quickly.

"What?"

"It's too early for all that just yet."

"Oh, sorry." She whispered apologetically before regaining her smile,

"Can you do a little digging?" Morgan questioned with knowing smile.

"Faster that you can twirl, my chocolate whirl-wind." She replied with a large, toothy grin.

He laughed a bit and shook his head, "Okay, okay. Did you get the case file of what were working on?"

"Sure did. I'm not sure I like this case very much..in fact I find that I usually _don't _like any of our cases very much."

Morgan shook his head, "Me either."

"We're looking for the phone numbers of the parent's names that are listed. The phone numbers listed as of now could be outdated or they might have changed it." Reid stepped in with a soft expression about his face.

Garcia smiled to him, but slowly it changed into a frown, "What happened to you, buttercup?"

Reid looked at her suspiciously, "Oh, the hand? It's nothing. I fell from the rain we had this morning. Slipped. A nurse was there and she fixed it for me."

"Oh, well, she sounds nice, did you get her phone number?"

Morgan snickered as did a few of the others but Reid ignored this and simply blushed, "No, she was a lot older than me."

Garcia's let out a guffaw and then covered her hand over her mouth before shaking her head, "Okay..okay..I'll get those numbers pronto.."

And as the laughing died down everyone sighed, facing the truth that this case was going to be another hardship.


	2. Save A Life

**Guardian Angel**

* * *

><p>"I know you don't think people know..everything..." She whispered, slowly slinking herself out of her outfit, leaving the scrubs beside an empty chair by the door, she sighed out in relief as she felt the hot water pound across her back.<p>

"..but I do.." She whispered, "..You don't think people notice...everything...but I do..and all I've ever seen is perfection.."

She turned to gaze thoughtfully at the sink through the glass doors of the shower, her many marker-written notes lining the mirror.

His schedule was written along the left side, everything from the time he approximately got up in the morning, left his apartment, got to work, and got home. The names of all his relatives and their status on the right side, and in the middle, a few motivational words. _'You'll get there.' 'He's yours' 'Beautiful.' 'When the going get's tough...' _Along the bottom however was his address, phone number, and email. All saved for just the right occasion.

Once, in order to ensure she had the right address, she had slipped a flyer for a halloween event, a phantasmagoria. She knew he would like it, and on that night, she had gotten her confirmation that indeed, she had the right address. He arrived and she had right next to him.

However, he hadn't noticed, only spurting out facts to her occasionally which only made her melt within her very seat.

She swallowed and gave a smile, allowing her locks of dark brown hair to submerge themselves beneath the steaming water.

"..Two years I've followed you everyday in my car, slowly drove just to be you made it to work safely...and today..today I made you better."

She smiled even wider but then slowly frowned, "..but..but I could do more. I remember the times you've been hurt, Spencer, I don't want that to happen again. Never. I..I have to-"

She cut herself short as she felt her eyes begin to sting with the realization, "...I've been a terrible guardian..but no more..I'll always be there for you, Spencer. Always.."

* * *

><p>Morgan stretched his arms out, yawning with a large smile, "Damn." He whispered, "Can you <em>believe <em>how lucky we got with that whole Parent Chit-Chat? I mean, now we know that this killer isn't separating his killings out for a month or so to plan. He's most likely doing it to try and repent. He's sloppy."

Prentiss gave a large smile as well, "Yeah, I mean, almost all of the parent's could quickly identify that they had often saw a strange man at the park they took their child to. A caucasian male, pale, black bed-head hair, dark circles beneath his eyes, tousled look, wrinkled clothes, scruffy beard, anorexic thin. They just said they hadn't thought anything of him until then, they even thought he was homeless."

"We definitely hit the jackpot on that one. Plus, they all said that a local conspiracy group was held, though the location was secret. Figures." JJ remarked as she begun to put some of her files into a bag.

"Well, that hardly matters. First off, the killer just struck about a week ago, and as far as we've been able to gather, he's done these killings a month in-between. Second off, all we have to do is tap into the security tapes, and Garcia'll get us identification in no time. She'll give us an address, we'll give him a little surprise." Rossi then continued, a sly look upon his face as he stood up and tousled the youngest agent's hair quickly, "Good job with that whole twenty-three conspiracy thing this morning, kid. That gave us the right profile for this, sicko."

Reid smiled lightly, but didn't respond.

"Hey, I think this whole thing deserves a little party, right?" Morgan replied, doing a few dance moves quickly, namely, raising the roof.

"You're always looking for a reason to party. Sorry, I'm gonna have to pass, party boy, I've got to get home to Henry.." JJ smiled and then sighed, shaking her head, "I really hate these cases, the ones with kids..I just..I just can't even imagine what I would do if one of those kids was Henry.."

Morgan frowned slightly, "Hey, you wouldn't _let _it happen to Henry, you'd beat that whack-jobs ass before he even laid eyes on him."

JJ smiled and punched him playfully on the arm, "Yeah, you're right."

"How about you, Em? I already know Garcia'll go."

Prentiss shrugged and then sighed, "I guess I could use a little club time."

"Reid? I know I always ask and you always say no, but..come on, Pretty Boy."

Reid looked at him for a moment, pondering over the thought before sighing, "No, I'm just gonna go home. I didn't get much sleep last night.."

"Hotch?" Morgan offered with a hopeful smile.

"You know I don't do that."

"Rossi? Come on! It'll be fun."

"No, no, no. I'm going home, having a glass of wine or two, and then off to bed. I have a little more class than licking jell-o shots off random women, alright?"

Morgan grinned, sticking his tongue out childishly before shrugging and putting an arm around Prentiss, "Alright, m'lady. Let me escort you Miss. Garcia's 'batcave' and we'll be off."

Emily laughed despite herself and followed before they both rang out some good byes, and soon afterwards, Rossi left, and then Reid was slowly making his way out the door, followed by Agent Hotchner.

With that, the lights turned off.

* * *

><p><strong>The Following Morning<strong>

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><p>Hotch drew his gun quickly, going to the front of his line-up of FBI agents, taking on the role of the leader, leading his group of agents into the heart of the sociopath's home.<p>

Though this wasn't the technically correct term to call the man, who was technically a paranoid psychopath. However, this wasn't the first time they had to expose themselves to some of the most evil of men.

Reid took the right side of Hotch, Morgan to his left. Following up came Rossi, JJ, and Prentiss.

They made their way across the overgrown yard, and broke down the flimsy wooden door, entering into the outdated, paint-chipped, living room, where a solo light hung.

They each split off into room, shouting out _'clear' _as they discovered each room to be empty, though absolutely filthy.

"I feel like I need a bath.." Morgan whispered as they came back together near the front door, seeing that perhaps this case wasn't going to be as easy as they first suspected.

Rossi shook his head with a slight exasperated sigh, letting his eyes drift to the dirty windows before seeing a flash of something dark. He squinted in confusion before running to the door.

"There he is!" Rossi yelled, now leading the gang to the front yard where the man finally stopped, raising his hands in the air.

However, this surprised them. That didn't match the profile. They had suspected him to deal with this head-on, and for a moment, each of them wondered if they had even gotten the right person.

They stuck their guns at quickly, neighbors suddenly popping out of their house to see what the commotion was about and not too long from them, a few police cars came whipping around the corner.

The man stuck his hands up still, a cocky smirk on his face as though he'd gotten the last word. Reid gave him a confused face before the slowly closed in on him.

"Rudolph Steiner, are you in the possession of any weapons?" Hotch questioned, going close enough to search him, as the team quickly backed him up, pointing their guns at him.

"No.." He let out a rough reply, his eyes wild and beady as they stared down each of them.

"You have the right to remain silent-" Reid began as he quickly grabbed his cuffs and grabbed at his arms, however, before his words could be finished, the man slowly turned to say just one last thing, however, before Reid could allow him to do so, a shot rung out through the air.

Reid could feel it all at once. Not the gunshot, but the warm blood splattering all over face and arms. He closed his eyes and slowly opened them to be faced with the sight of a dead man, gun wound in his right temple. Through this quickly analysis, it became quickly apparent that the gunshot had not come from anyone from his team, though Hotch initially glared at them, he soon figured out it quite impossible for his team to shot his right temple if they were on his left.

He followed the gun wound to the white picket fence, to a woman. A woman with dark brown hair whose face was full of shock. The gun she held quivered in her hands, and the officers around her were quick to surround her.

"He..He was about to kill that Agent!" She yelled, pointing in accusation at the, now dead, unsub's hand, who indeed, had been clutching to a metallic knife.

She had just saved Agent Spencer Reid's life.

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><p><strong>Review Please, they are greatly appreciated! <strong>


	3. A Bump In The Night

**Guardian Angel**

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><p><em>'Why didn't you help us? You could have if you wanted to. You're a murderer. A murderer!'<em>

_Reid's body shook beneath the weight being put on him by the dead bodies, now alive and blood thirsty. He looked into the blank faces of the many he couldn't save just in time. The many he wished he could have, but couldn't. All the many who he wished.._

_'It's your fault we're dead..all yours...you're a murderer.. murderer.. murderer..'_

_The bright red streams, filled with glowing blood beneath the oversized, frying heads who laughed down upon him. The many damned inside the skin of the demonic head, trying to get out._

_Then there was the damned that lie ontop of himself, scratching, biting, cackling, screaming, crying. Women, men, children._

_'I'm sorry..I'm so sorry..' __He whispered, 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'_

_'Spencer? Spencer Reid? Spencer, wake up..'_

_Reid looked up into the swarming sky of black clouds, twirling in a hurricane fashion. 'I'm awake..I'm just in hell..' He whispered as he quivered one more at the cold touches, and the warm blood that poured out from his skin._

_'No, you're not..look up, Spencer. Look into the eye of the hurricane.'_

_He looked up obediently, looking disdainfully but soon found some hope to cling onto as he saw the eye. The eye, filled with a bright light in which a woman slowly lowered from. A woman with dark hair._

_'Wake up, Spencer..' She whispered and just as she did.._

Reid woke with a start, sitting straight up in bed, clutching the sheets of the bed which felt soaked from his own sweat. He blinked rapidly as he looked around the dark room.

A door creaked and closed.

He turned his head, looking in shock as the dark oak closed, movement from the other side obvious. He jumped from his bed, hands going straight to his gun that sat beside his bed before opening opening the door quickly. His body still shook from the aftershock of the nightmare.

He breathed in and out carefully, opening the door, gun aimed.

Another door closed, and he ran towards the sound, finding it to be the front door in which he re-opened and as he pointed the gun forward, then down the hall, all he saw before they turned the corner, was dark hair.

* * *

><p>Rossi entered the conference room last, though not late, sighing with a coffee cup in hand as he sat down carefully. "So, case finished, paperworks done since there wasn't much to report..we have another case yet?"<p>

"We're supposed to get one within the next few hours." Hotch replied stiffly as he let his roam down the line of agents, stopping on the darkly circled eyes of his youngest agent.

Morgan sighed, rubbing the temples of his head, "Lucky that Em stopped me or I don't know if I'd been in work today" Morgan murmured with a small smile playing on his lips, "SHould have been there Rossi, I had about nine hunny's dancing with me all at once."

"..and I'm sure they were just as sober as you were." Rossi replied with a small laugh, sitting back with his coffee up to his mouth.

Morgan shrugged with a defeated smile and Emily simply smirked at the dramatized telling of Morgan's night.

"Get any sleep last night?" Morgan questioned, though it was obvious what the answer would be, as he looked over to Reid who was simply staring out in space.

"..Kind of, I guess." Reid replied, rubbing the back of his neck in thought before opening his bag to grab a book as a distraction.

"What's the problem?" Morgan questioned, folding his arms across his chest, giving an inquisitive expression.

Reid looked up for a moment, debating whether to lie himself out of having t answer, however, there was only about thirty percent chance it would work with so many profilers staring you down.

"I just..Well, I had this nightmare," Reid began, raising his book further to cover up his sleep-deprived eyes, "and when I woke up..well, just forget it."

"No, no. What happened?" Rossi countered, looking in slight concern at the bookworm.

Reid pressed his lips together and then swallowed, squirming slightly in his seat.

"..I thought there was someone in my apartment. I mean, I don't think there was actually anyone there but-"

"Woah, woah, woah. You _saw _someone in your apartment?" Morgan questioned, sitting forward, reaching across the table to push the book down from Reid's face.

Reid dropped it onto the table, looking around the table as though the answer lied there. He pressed his lips together carefully before shaking his head, "No, I didn't see anyone, actually. I just heard doors slam is all, but after that I was too freaked to go back to bed. It was just paranoia."

It was quiet for a minute before Reid picked the book back up, flipping a few pages to find where he was.

"You should have called one of us." Hotch replied, his face no longer containing the monotone stare, but now a lightened expression of actual concern, however, his tone did not change from his usual command.

"No, you guys didn't need to come over for something so trivial. Seriously, I was just freaked out. I mean, think about it, I haven't gotten sleep in _days, _I was just getting paranoid from sleep deprivation. I got some more sleep this morning before coming into work, two hours or so."

"Without the nightmares?" JJ quizzed, her eyes holding a deep concern, though she tried not to make it evident in her voice, she knew that what bothered Reid more than anything were sympathetic stares, and voices.

A long time ago she had deduced that this was most likely due to the fact that he had never gotten used to such concern. Having to be a care giver to his mother, he had to remain tough and solve his own problems without another adult to go to. This also explained much of maturity.

"Without the nightmares." Reid replied with a nod and soft smile.

"Fine.. Hotch replied carefully, "..but if it happens again, I want to be notified as soon as it happens, got it?"

Reid put his hands up in mock defeat, "I doubt it'll happen again, but fine. Fine."

A rapping at the door caught their attention, and Hotch stood to take the case file from Strauss who apparently was hand delivering this one. He took it carefully and threw it onto the desk before each of them began to read over the case, however, as a surprise, Strauss walked inside the room, looking at each of them before her eyes landed upon Reid.

"Agent Hotchner, may I have a word with you, please?" She questioned in her authorizing voice, hands on her hips.

Hotch looked up in slight surprise, but followed orders and stood following her outside the round-table room and into the hall where she cleared her throat, "Agent Hotchner, yesterday, the criminal of your case was shot and killed. Is this correct?"

"Yes. I reported that in my report."

"Yes, I know you did." She replied carefully, "The killer was shot by an outsider? A civilian?"

"Yes."

"Why is that?"

"She was attempting to stop him from resisting arrest, namely, by injuring or killing Agent Reid."

She looked at him carefully, "She saw him about to injure Agent Reid, however, your team of FBI agent's did not?"

"He was pulling the knife out of his left pocket, while my team was positioned on his right. They were beginning to circle the unsub, just as he pulled the weapon."

She blinked for a moment before nodding, "I understand. I apologize about having to clarify this with you, however, your teams reports were a bit..short. Short in_description_ compared to usual, however, I suppose I will not be punishing any of you on account that you managed to solve this case within the length of two days."

Reid didn't waver but nodded curtly, "I apologize. I'll make sure my teams reports fit your standards the next time." Hotch bit with a soft smirk before entering the round tabled room once more.

She glared for a moment at the back of his head before walking off, attending to other matters. This time, she would allow Agent Hotchner to feel as though he won. However, the next time such unbecoming behavior should occur, he and his team would be punished with an iron fist.

With that thought in mind, she got on with her next tedious, boring, task.

**XXX**

Hotchner re-entered the room swiftly, "Next reports have to be better than last reports. They were too short and lacked description." Hotch announced, taking his seat once more at the round table, "Summarize the case file, Morgan."

"Okay, John Seymour, Mackenzie Turk, Michelle Michaels, and Harold O'Brein were all just recently kidnapped within the same day. It's thought to be done by the same guy since former kidnappings of teens around similar ages, were reported to have been hoping into a black van outside of school. That was the last thing they saw them doing."

"All of them?" Hotch questioned as he read over the file just as Morgan summarized.

"Yeah, friends reported that they saw them jump into some kind of black van, and that was the last time they saw them." Morgan replied, nodding.

"Did they say who might have been in the van?"

"No, they said they had no idea, but the teens being kidnapped are supposedly some of the most popular kids in their school. The kidnapping have been happening over different schools in Vermont, one even out of the state, in New York." Reid replied.

"Well this kidnapper has to be someone they trust, obviously, but, it doesn't make sense that he knows kids from all these schools, and then from New York as well, that's out of state. So he must be persuasive, or maybe even famous in their area." JJ continued, "Otherwise, these popular kids won't think that he's _cool enough_to hang out with."

"Right, so then, popularity is a key. He's famous in the area, but not a celebrity." Emily added.

"Which tells us he must live close to the state line of Vermont or Maine, if kids from both states know about him. Plus, the two schools that were in Vermont, were close to the state line as well" Reid continued the profile quickly, eyebrows downward in thought a he clicked his tongue softly.

"Yeah, so he's out of high school, popular among their age group and in that area, but not a celebrity..sounds easy enough." Rossi added, sarcasm dripping from his very tongue.

"Well, okay, look. Contacting the kids parent's would be worthless, all of them have shared the same story with the cops, that none of them have heard of any friendsother than their friends at school, they have no idea who someone in a black van could be, and that their kids are still trying to figure who they are so they've been into trouble here and there." Morgan continued, eyes looking around the table."

"Wait, so that means that this guy or..girl..is a secret. They don't talker to their parent's about him or her, they don't have posters of him or her in their room, they keep it a close secret for the popular kids only."

"Exactly." Morgan replied, nodding, "So, what we do, is talk to these kids friends. See if they know whats up, which I'm sure they do."

"We're going to interrogate some teens?" Emily laughed, sitting back with a a childish smile played on her lips.

"Sounds like our best bet." Morgan replied, looking over to Hotch.

He nodded, "We'll be leaving as soon as possible."


	4. Wretched Head

**Guardian Angel**

* * *

><p>"So.." Morgan began, clearing his throat and sitting back in the hard plastic chairs of the classroom, staring across the black science table at a teenage girl, blonde straight hair, black eyeliner, arms folded with her floral printed bag. She rolled her eyes and sighed adjusting the black headband in her hair before blinking rapidly in aggravation.<p>

Morgan observed her nervous behavior down to the smallest twitch before continuing, "You're telling me that you have no idea where you best friends have all gone, right?"

"..That's what I've _been _telling you, and Michelle is _not _my best friend. That little bitch thinks she can go behind my back and talk shit about me? I'm going to be Prom Queen, she's going down."

"She's actually not going anywhere until we know where she went last Friday at three-thirty PM, she's missing. You _do _understand that, right?" Morgan questioned, lifting a single eyebrow as he folded his own arms.

"Yeah. I get that." She replied curtly, rolling her eyes, "I'm not stupid."

"You're acting like it, Ashley. I need you to stop lying and tell me the truth, or your friends and enemy might _die_."

Ashley looked back, blinking rapidly, "It's not that serious."

"No, the FBI got involved because your friends are having fun at your friends house. Ashley, get with the program here. They've been kidnapped, taken out of their own will, and who knows what they've done with them now. But you have the chance to save innocent people. Now, the choice is yours."

Ashley swallowed, blinking once more, but unfolding her arms to pick at her fifty-dollar manicure. "Okay..okay. I don't really know what the guy's name is or anything but.." She looked up hopefully, "I'll tell you as much as I can.."

* * *

><p>"..what <em>do <em>you know about him, Lisa?" Hotch questioned as the girl sighed, tears streaming down her face.

"..Well, all I really know is that..that black van he travels in? it's called the party van. Don't ask me why, I've never been in it. He's a DJ, basically...he throws these..midnight raves in random places every Saturday night, and only the popular people ever know about it, it goes around by word of mouth, okay? They call him.."

* * *

><p>"What do they call him, Cindy?" Reid said softly, giving a curious look, as he sat hunched over on a wooden stool behind a lab desk in a biology room.<p>

"..DJ Wretched Head, he wears this really weird costume head thing. Like a mouse or something."

"Can you describe him at all?"

"It's usually really dark and the lights flash a lot, so..it's hard to tell but..he's sort of thin, muscular a little I guess, and he's usually wearing a hoodie. But that's all I remember him looking like."

"Have you heard anyone say anything about a midnight rave happening _this _Saturday?"

* * *

><p>"..yeah, I have." Ashley whispered, clearing her throat, "Um..it's supposed to happen at the underground abandoned storage bunker at Botanical Garden."<p>

Morgan nodded, "Do you know why your friends would jump into this van with him? Why does he come around the school?"

* * *

><p>"..Um, it's called Freaky Fridays." Lisa replied, "He talks about it every Saturday night, and if he comes up to your school, he picks a few popular kids up in the parking lot if they're there. He said that lots of people get picked, and they get into the Party Van, and go somewhere secret, to party with him face to face. None of us knew..I mean..we didn't think he'd kidnap people..He's just a DJ."<p>

Hotch swallowed, blinking a few moments before standing up, "Do you know _anything _else?"

"...I know that FBI agents going to one of the raves isn't going to blow over well.." Lisa whispered before standing and leaving the classroom.

* * *

><p>"Garcia?" Morgan questioned into the cellular device as he got into the rented car, buckling his seat belt, and preparing to drive back to the hotel and meet up with Hotch and Reid.<p>

"What's up, hot stuff?"

"What's Botanical Gardens?"

Garcia made a small noise that sounded confused before laughing a little, "You've never heard of Botanical Gardens? They have one in Vermont and in Maine. Which school did you go to?"

"The one in Maine."

"You want directions?"

"If you could my beautiful mistress."

She let out a little school girl giggle before she sighed, "Give me five seconds Hottie Patottie."

"You think you can change that to five minutes until I get on my plane to get back to Maine?"

"Sure thing! Talk then." And with that the phone clicked.

* * *

><p>Reid walked into his hotel room, slipping his messenger bag off and throwing it onto the bed before slipping his shoes off and knocking on the door separating his and Hotch's room. "Reid?"<p>

"Uh huh."

"Come in."

Reid opened the door quickly and saw his boss, sitting at a table within the middle of the suit. Reid carefully crossed the wooden floors, sticking his hands in his pockets before sitting down around the table, across from him. Morgan knocked shortly afterwards who came in and sat down as well, paper in hand.

"So, I got a pretty good amount of info out of her, she said that some DJ called Wretched Head owned that van, called it the party van and that he-"

"..performed midnight raves?" Reid finished with a small smile, nodding.

"Every Saturday, and did _'Freaky Fridays' _every Friday." Hotch replied, nodding.

"Huh, and there going to do a rave this Saturday night-"

"..at Botanical Garden, which is just off Kirkland Rd." Reid finished.

Morgan glared with a small pout, "Damn it, stop cutting me off, Pretty Boy." Morgan murmured with folded arms.

Reid gave a smile and laughed slightly before swallowing, "Luckily, Saturday is just day after tomorrow."

"I was planning on questioning more teenagers tomorrow, however, based off what we have, I don't think there's anything more we need unless we could get a name out of them."

"That's no use, I brought my girl to tears and she said that she had no idea what his name was. Nobody did." Morgan replied shaking his head.

"What confused me the most was that these kidnapping reportedly started about three weeks ago, right? Before then, Freaky Fridays were still going on, but no kidnappings occurred. What caused the sudden change in character?"

"Maybe he realized what he was doing and that it could be used to kidnap?" Morgan replied quietly, shaking his head, "No..no, that doesn't make sense. I sounds more like he would create this Freaky Friday thing _in order to _kidnap easily..in that case..DJ Wretched Head doesn't really fit the profile.."

"Right. Our profile mainly focuses around the idea that he's a psychopathic, impulsive, kidnapper. No one knows who he is, so he does all of these things himself. he's intelligent. It was ignorant that he started kidnapping so quickly together in broad day light at schools near his raves..it doesn't make sense."

"Maybe he had a psychological break?" Hotch mused, a hand to his chin.

"..Until Saturday, I don't know we can be sure on _why _he did the actions he did. We have to catch him first." Morgan concluded, sitting back further into the seat, rubbing his temples, "All I know, is that I'm tired as hell. Flying here, then to Maine, then back here. Ugh.."

"We'll pick this up tomorrow morning, and then find Botanical Gardens, observe the area, figure out where that bunker or..underground shelter is." Hotch concluded, stacking some of his paper work together, Morgan throwing away the address of Botanical Gardens as deeming it useless when Reid clearly knew where it was.

Reid went back to his own room, "Good Night." Morgan called out as he exited Hotch's room.

"Night." Hotch replied.

"Night." Reid responded as wel, going through the connecting door, into his own room which appeared to be almost identical to Hotch's and he assumed, Morgans.

He sighed, looking at the clock on the table, "6:00PM." He mumbled to himself.

It was a lot earlier than when he usually slept which ended up usually being eleven or so, however, all the sleep deprivation, stress, and interrogating, had gotten the best of him, and now as he looked at the large grey-covered bed, all he could think about was sleeping.

He yawned, removing his grey cardigan sweater, dark blue button-up shirt, black trousers, and black converse, leaving him in nothing but his dark grey and red striped boxers that went half-way down his thigh. He quickly grabbed a black T-shirt from the drawers and slipped it on before slipping beneath the covers of his bed, all lights off except one light in the corner that allowed him to see the room without it bothering him from sleeping.

Surprisingly, he found that sleep clutched him quickly, though he also found that clutches of a black monster also caught him, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest with the bones of victims from past cases.

He was quiet though, lying there, allowing the punishment to be continued. Over and over, the sharpened bones stuck through his stomach, allowing blood to pour free. He finally swallowed and let out one small plea, _"Please don't do this anymore..I've tried my hardest..I've tried so hard.." _

The dream did not continue, he sat up quickly in his bed, still feeling an odd warmth clutching his arm, he looked over and to his shock, he saw a woman with dark hair looking back at him with shock written on her face as well.

He moved away, heart beating quickly in his chest as he looked into her eyes,

"I'm sorry, sir..I..I was coming in for room service, and..and when I heard you screaming..I was concerned. I came in without consent. I apologize for scaring you but I just wanted to make sure you were-"

"No, no. It's okay, really." Reid whispered shaking himself from the dream, blinking rapidly. "I..I just thought you looked..familiar. Sorry, I just.."

"No, sir, it's fine. I'll just be going, I'll come and clean later, is that alright?"

"Yes, yes, that's fine. Thanks for..waking me up." Reid murmured in response, still trying to wrap his head around the situation.

She nodded with a smile, "Do you need anything?"

"No, thanks."

She smiled again and left, closing the door behind her softly.

Reid quickly got up from his bed, shaking off the tremors he still experienced from the nightmare. He breathed in and then out before sitting back down on the bed, clutching his heart softly.

"Am..Am I crazy?" He whispered to himself, hitting his forehead, "God, get a grip.."


	5. My King

**Guardian Angel**

* * *

><p><em>Saturday<em>

_8:00PM_

* * *

><p>They moved skillfully over the land of the botanical garden which they had scanned over the previous day, the moons rays the only source of light as they quickly made it to the small underground shelter located directly in the middle of the garden, hidden in the middle of a circle of bushes.<p>

They skillfully stepped over the bushes, the noise from the party happening below booming out from beneath the wooden door. Quickly, they opened it and stepped down the cement stairs, the scent of marijuana, alcohol, and cheap cologne filling their senses.

For a moment they did a double-take, choking silently as they entered the raging party.

"Reid, you go in." Hotch shouted over the blaring music.

"What?"

"You go in! By yourself!" Hotch repeated, louder this time.

"I heard you, but why?"

"You'll fit in better, you're younger." Morgan replied.

"Put your gun away and get to Wretched Head, pull out your FBI ID and tell him that you need to speak with him. We'll wait be waiting right outside here if he runs. If he doesn't resist, bring him to us." Hotch finished off as they ran back up the cement steps.

"Hey, just don't get distracted by the girls? Okay?" Morgan replied with a long chuckle, as he stepped out and closed the door behind himself.

Reid continued down the stares, feeling the smoke burn his eyes as he finally made it around a corner where the main room was. A million teens must have been there, crowding the room as they performed various moves, most of them enjoying the grind. All had alcohol, illegal drugs, or cigarettes in their possession, dancing mindlessly to the flashing lights set up on the floor, and set up in a makeshift way along the ceiling, while at the front, true to the teenagers words, was a man with a hoodie, a slight but muscular build, and a costume head of a mouse on, right behind a DJ booth.

How he had managed to transport all of these electronics and get them up and running, they would never question nor ask, all they cared to know about, were where the many hopeless teenagers were being dragged to.

He moved quickly through the crowd, accepting the danger that came with no bullet-proof vest, and swallowed, hoping they wouldn't discover he didn't belong here.

He passed through the staring eyes of a few who sneered at him, but for the most part, everyone was too high or drunk to realize who he was or what he looked like.

A few spot our words like, "Nerd," "Geek," "Loser," but these things had been spit at him too many times to affect him, he moved closer and closer to the DJ booth and once he was there, the mouse head turned to stare directly at. Reid waved his hand towards him and the DJ turned his head the other way, waving for another man, a black man with dreads, to come and take his place momentarily.

He stepped off the stage, "Yeah?" He questioned with a slight laugh in his voice, "What're you doing here, nerd-o?"

"Can we step outside for a minute, to talk? I'm..with the FBi." This time it was Reid's turn to smirk as he pulled out in ID and flipped at the mouse-headed man.

He paused for a moment before sighing, "Yeah, I guess so." He murmured,

"Great.." Reid drawled for a moment as he began leading the way to the door, a flash of something large and grey passed by his eye and to his shock, saw that instead of DJ Wretched Head following him to the door, he was traveling in a different way. By the hands of the drunk crowd who passed him along at a surprisingly faster rate.

He was attempting to escape.

Reid barreled through the crowd like a, gripping onto the gun that stuck out of his pants. A holster would have been a bit of a give-a-way. He maneuvered once more through the crowd, but was knocked over more than once but smirking mouths and blood-shot eyes.

He, again, let this roll off his back as he managed to get to the entrance just a few moments after Wretched Head.

He made his way up the stairs behind the man and as he exited the wooden door, he was met by two other FBI agents with small smiles on their faces. Grabbing him by the arms.

Reid felt the urge to quote Scooby-Doo but held it back as he unmasked the man.

"Old Man Jenkins?" Morgan questioned with a laugh.

Reid smiled in approval, he should have known that if he didn't, Morgan would.

However, it was not a cartoon villain, but instead a twenty-something man with black hair and a scruffy looking beard, "Whatever, man."

"Why'd you run?" Morgan questioned with raised eyebrows in the pooling light from a few sidewalk streetlights.

"FBI's on my ass and there's marijuana and drunk teens all over the place, you think I'm not gonna run, dude?"

"What's your real name, Wretched Head?" Hotch questioned with entertainment just tinging his stony expression.

Wretched Head rolled his eyes before sighing, "David."

"Does David have a last name?" Morgan further questioned.

"David Green."

"Alright, Mr. Green. I think you know what this visit has to do with." Reid replied once he had caught his breath, arms folded in front of him.

"Look man, I didn't know they were gonna bring that Mary Jane, okay? And I'm not responsible for them getting drunk. I'm just a DJ looking for some fun, adrenaline, okay?"

They gave him inquisitive looks, "No, David. At the time being, we don't care about drunk teens or Marijuana. What we want to know is where your hiding those kidnapped teenagers?" Morgan snarled quietly, grabbing his shirt lightly and looking deep within his hazel eyes, causing a spark of fear in the younger man.

"Wha-What? You guys are crazy! I knew the government would turn on everyone one day. What're you talking about?"

"..There's been some teens being kidnapped in the area as of recent. They were abducted at the high school in a van on Friday's. Does Freaky Friday's ring a bell?" Reid continued, folding his arms with a look of pure ice.

"Wait..Freaky Fridays? I haven't done that in like..a month or something, bro- I mean..sir. I haven't been able to even drive myself anywhere. Some moron stole my fuckin-.." He paused and swallowed, "..my car."

Morgan let go of his shirt, face rippled with confusion, "What?"

"Yeah, my van was stolen, by some nerdy kid a few weeks ago. I kicked him out of the rave, he wasn't supposed to be there. He was a geek, ya' know?"

"Mr. Green, how old are you? Your out of Highschool, geeks and nerds don't exist after that." Reid replied before sighing, feeing the hem of his sweater between two fingers.

"What was his name, David?" Hotch intercepted, agreeing, but wanting to get to the point.

"..Uh. Damn, I dunno. I thought it was something like, Tyler? Tyler Smitty? Yeah, that was it. He had some kind of geeky class-president shirt on that said 'Vote for Tyler Smitty', 'cuz he was running for some kind of gay ass politic shit like..school prez.."

"We'll let you off the hook for the rave this time, David. Don't give us a reason to come after you again." Morgan murmured, arching his eyebrows in warning before taking a step back.

"Hey..you guys gonna find my van?" David murmured, shifting his stance slightly as the three agents began to walk away.

"Yeah, does it have Marijuana in it?" Morgan countered.

"Maybe.."

"Consider it destroyed." Morgan said with a small mischevious smile on his face.

"What! No, way! It's got like..a thousand dollars worth of party equipment in it, guys!"

"And a thousand dollars worth of illegal drugs." Reid replied with an equally amused smile as Morgan.

David let out a string of curses as he watched the backs of the agent's moved on to their car.

* * *

><p>Reid entered the hotel room, setting his card back into his messenger bag and then setting his messenger bag onto the table as he sat back down on his bed, remembering the maid from yesterday morning waking him up. That morning he had wanted to go down to the front desk and physically apologized, but unfortunately in his shock, he had forgotten to look at her name tag.<p>

He sighed, looking down at his palms until a knock came at his door.

He looked up, "Yeah?"

"It's Morgan and Hotch." A familiar voice called, Reid smiled, grateful to be pulled from his thoughts as he stood and answered the door.

He opened to be faced with Morgan who had brought Hotch's laptop with him, Hotch standing behind him with a softened expression since they had found the address of Tyler Smitty's house and were dropping by tomorrow to attempt to interrogate the newest unsub.

Reid looked curiously at the laptop and as giggling arose from it, Reid blinked a moment in shock. Hoping that the female laughter coming from the laptop and the sly faces weren't clues to what he thought might be on the laptop.

"I..I'm not sure I'm interested in watching that.." Reid whispered, feeling a bit lightheaded at the thought of watching such things with his both co-workers and friends.

"Wha-..Oh! Oh, geez man! We aren't watching_ that_! It's just Garcia, Em, and JJ. On the _webcam_!" Morgan yelled in surprise, "Get your mind out of the gutter! When are your teenage hormones gonna flick off?"

Reid's face turned red, as Morgan turned the laptop to show all three girls sitting beside each other looking with giddy expressions at the youngest FBI agent. "Reid! Of all people to suspect such a thing!" JJ commented.

"Mister! You're in trouble when you get home! But I'm proud of you for not wanting to watch..that..sort of..thing." Garcia commented with a warm smile.

Reid shook his head, "Sorry." He squeaked slightly as Morgan entered the room and set the laptop down on the table, pulling three chairs around the camera as Morgan and Hotch took their seats, leaving a chair in-between them.

"Come over sweet-cheeks!" Garcia yelled playfully on the computer, looking at Reid who stood still in his spot, looking at the camera from beside the bed.

"Just a minute.." He responded as he slowly unbuttoned his black and grey striped sweater before slinking it off.

"Ooh lala!" Garcia commented which made Reid blush even harder.

He threw the sweater onto the bed and undid the black tie quicker this time, throwing it once more onto the bed, beside the sweater, and pulled the button-up shirt out of his trousers, to let it hang loose.

"You should dress more casual like that all the time." JJ commented with a smile, "You look cute."

Reid's face turned beat red and he cleared his throat quietly as he took his seat, looking down at his hands as the other two told them of last three days spent in Maine down to the smallest detail. Around the end, Reid felt his blood pressure slow down and finally was able to look up again into their smiling faces. He sat back and folded his arms.

"So, do you suspect the unsub has killed them? Or that the teens are all still alive?"

"Most likely,he's working with others, he's just the abductor. So, my best guess is their alive. Otherwise some reports would have come up." Hotch replied.

"And it doesn't seem that the unsub is trying to actually _hurt _anyone, he's just trying to punish them in a way. My guess is the bullying at school led him to this, and now that's he's actually doing it, he's nervous, so he's gotten sloppy." Reid replied looking over to Morgan who nodded as well.

"Sounds about right." Prentiss commented, "The boys at my school used to make fun of me all the time, but that's just because they knew I could beat their ass."

Everyone had a good laugh at that one.

"You guys know that the unsub kidnapped more kids yesterday, right? It was a Friday again, remember?" Garcia commented off-handed after a moment of silence.

"We were busy scanning the garden's all yesterday..getting ready for ambush that we did tonight." Morgan replied, "We never got word about it."

"Yeah, it starting to get to be a pretty famous topic on the news.." Prentiss replied quietly.

"We've got the address though, we'll get him tomorrow. Nothing to worry about. We can't get him tonight, tomorrow morning will catch him off guard."

"Right.." JJ murmured, shaking her head, "I don't know who to feel bad for, the bullies being held captive, or the victim of years and years of bullying.."

Slowly the conversation died down though, and small talk came in, changing from one subject to another but soon it landed on something Reid would have rather left in the dark.

"So, have you gotten more sleep in Vermont, Reid?" Garcia questioned, concern and sympathy lining her features.

Reid blinked a second, "Yes, actually. Which is weird. Did you know that most people get nightmares when in a different place than home? Home gives them feelings of safety while foreign places make them have insecurities them show themselves while their asleep in the form of nightmares."

"Reid, we aren't here for statistics. Stop changing the subject and you slipped up, genius. We never said anything about nightmares." Prentiss replied with a small smirk.

Reid cringed, tightening his fist until his fingernails practically tug within his skin.

"You asked if I got more sleep which I figured was a way of asking if I was still having nightmares considering nightmares were the main reason I didn't get sleep in the first place." Reid fired back with a small, narcissistic grin plastered on his face.

"No, you didn't. But good job at a witty come-back." Garcia replied with a head tilt. "What kind of nightmares are ya' getting, hun bun?"

Reid shrugged, "I don't really remember them. Most people don't remember the dreams they have. They might remember for a split second when they wake up, but afterwards the brain-"

"Reid." Hotch stopped him short.

Reid looked over dejectedly for a moment before looking down at his twiddling finger and then swallowed, "..Just..they're all about the same thing. Being punished for not saving people. You know..victims that we couldn't get to in time."

"..That's normal." Morgan replied, "I get those too sometimes, ya' know after the real bad cases."

"I'm sure they'll go away." Reid added quickly, "I noticed that last night's wasn't so bad. I slept the entire night, I never woke up at three or four AM, and they weren't as extreme. Their definitely going away."

"I'm glad to hear it, man." Morgan replied, hitting him friendly on the back which unintentionally caused Reid to cough and sit forward.

"Careful there, Pretty Boy." Morgan replied with a small laugh.

"Good, I was getting really worried." Garcia admitted with a small smile, "You've been having those buggy nightmares for a while."

JJ and Prentiss gave him a small smile as well before the conversation finally drifted to some other topic and another which caused a few rounds of laughter just before they all started yawning and rubbing their eyes. This was where they all decided it was time for bed.

So they went their separate ways with a round of good nights and soon, everyone in the hotel was snug in their beds, and the girls were on their way home. Rossi, the women had commented, went home an hour or so ago, whom suggested that next time he wanted in on the action instead of mapping duty.

* * *

><p><em>Sunday<em>

_11:00PM_

* * *

><p>Her eyes carefully traced his sleeping form, swallowing carefully and checking her watch in the small beam of light that came through the small crack she had left open in the closet.<p>

"You never sleep with all the lights off.." She whispered, her eyes carefully watching as he tossed and turned beneath his sheets.

"..I can't tell..are you having a nightmare? You tend to move a lot in your sleep no matter what.." She whispered carefully as she bit her bottom lip, concern lining her features.

A shrill ring filled the room and she did everything but die. She clutched her heart as it begun to pound within her chest, she knew there wasn't a chance that he wouldn't awake to the sound of the ring.

He slowly came around and sat up slowly, "Who could that be.." he begun, turning to look at the clock, "..at eleven?"

He shook his head, cracking his neck before stepping out from his covers, clad in black boxers and white T-shirt.

She swallowed as she watched his thin figure maneuver through the room and just barely saved himself from tripping.

"You're a klutz, aren't you? A perfect one.." She whispered quietly with a small smile beneath the loud ringing from his cellphone.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes attempting to read the name on the caller ID before giving a confused look, "What?"

She moved in closer, wishing, just praying, she could read that ID on his phone, but she couldn't. She didn't have super powers after all. She blinked back the tears at the realization she would simply have to pray he would talk to himself as usual, and spill the answer to her questions.

"Hello?" He murmured quietly as he sat on the edge of his bed, he sat quietly for a moment before she noticed his body language quickly changing. He tensed at first, gripping the phone firmly, jaw clenched, back muscle becoming rock solid. Then just as quickly as it happened, it was gone, and he became more limp than before.

"..I...but she'll be alright?" he whispered in a hushed voice, awaiting the other persons reply, "Yes, Doctor. I understand,but there has to be _something _you can tell me...wha-?"

It was silent for a moment, "..fifty-fifty? I...I don't understand, though. You must be mistaken. I talked to her just last week and she was fi-...new medication? _That's _what caused her...it's _your _fault then, Doctor?"

He huffed and gave out a small laugh, "Your done, consider your title stripped from your name."

With this he hung up his phone and threw it across the the room, it luckily only sliding across the floor and hitting a wall with a soft impact, just barely chipping a small piece of the black paint off the metal.

He took a breath and set his eyes determined at the mirror. "That _idiot_! He calls himself a Doctor?"

"..What is it that upsets you..?" She whispered carefully from the closet as he sat and swallowed, shaking his head, quivering in the cold air of the hotel room. It feeling more chilled and more unforgiving than ever.

He went still for a moment before he quickly stood, getting dressed quickly in a dark purple button-up and black trousers with his black Converse, not taking the time the tuck his shirt in or take his leather messenger, he went out the door.

She watched hesitantly, stepping out after just a moment, stripping herself of the maid get-up and quickly changing into her normal clothing which consisted of a dark red T-shirt, black boot-cut trousers, and black heels, which she all grabbed from her back-up.

She looked at the messenger, "..You never forget your messenger..your room key was in it.." She murmured, running to it and snatching the room-key, not taking the time to investigate what content were inside the bag.

She held onto the back-up, ran out the door, and threw her back-up at a random maid, "Rebecca, would you be a doll and put that in the storage room for me, please?"

The maid, Rebecca, gave her a strange look, putting a hand on her hip. "I have to pay mind to all these pompous guests and now _you? _Fine, but just this once. Got it?"

The woman looked back with a bright, white, smile. Her teeth glistening beautifully in the light, "That's fine, Becca. Thanks!"

She shook her head and rolled her eyes but simply went on with her cleaning duties, the back-up in on a shelf beneath the cart.

The woman continued running down the hall after her king, like a lioness after her mate. Her dark hair swishing back and forth.


	6. Never Drank Before

**Guardian Angel**

* * *

><p><em>Sunday<em>

_11:45PM_

* * *

><p>Reid swallowed, feeling the hole in his heart only grow larger and larger as he continued down the dark street, full of scantily dressed women and gussied up men, reeking of cheap cologne.<p>

He dug his hands into his pockets deeper, his mind everywhere but there. It raced, wondering what would become of his sick mother, dying on the operation table as he spoke, all because of that moronic doctor who had prescribed her new medication.

The new medication she was prescribed only made the auditory hallucinations worse, and then the visual hallucinations came back after so many years of them being gone. The absolute thought she was only getting worse instead of better, caused the deepest depression she had ever had.

Of course Spencer remembered all the time she had locked herself into her room, debating suicide, but all those time, he had managed to be able to talk her through out of it. This time however, she had actually attempted in taking her own life. She hadn't even figured that maybe the new medicine was causing this backwards step in her condition.

She had managed to steal a butcher knife from the kitchen through manipulation of other patients who barely even knew where they were, and ended up successfully stabbing herself in the stomach in her room.

Her plan would have been fool-proof- had another patient not ratted her out for stealing the knife.

It just so happened that a nurse had gone in there to attempt in getting the knife back, knowing Diana not to be a violent woman, and had discovered her body. It only having been lying there for a second or so.

She called in a doctor immediately and once they had stabilized the blood loss, they had sent her off to surgery.

The doctor had called Reid just as she was going into surgery, to inform him that her state at the time being was not sure. Once surgery was finished, her chances of survival were much greater, but at the moment, it was, to be frank, a fifty-fifty chance whether she would survive the night.

Reid hadn't the faintest idea on what to do or how he could possibly go on without his mother. He _should _have been there. He _should_ have known something was wrong. How? He wasn't sure. He _should_ have just _sensed _it.

He shook his head, that wasn't rational thinking, but he wasn't sure what else he could convince himself _into_ thinking.

A couple in their late twenties rounded the corner, on top of each other, slurring words and laughing. The woman dressed in a short, glistening, black dress that fit her thin frame tightly, while the man wore an all black outfit as well, button-up top, dark jeans, black shiny dress shoes. His hair was black and gelled backwards. His million dollar smile was ruined by the smell of alcohol but that apparently did not matter to the woman he clung onto for dear life.

Reid swallowed, rounding the same corner they had, and saw the flashing blue lights, and loud obnoxious music. He recognized the building to be a club, however, he had never been in one. Never.

He swallowed nervously. This was the sort of place Morgan, Garcia and Prentiss went to? Sometimes even JJ? They always talk about the fun time and how it was such a great stress reliever after work.

He swallowed once more, bulking all of his anger and despair into courage, before entering the building, flashing his wallet ID at the outside bouncer. The scene instantly reminded him of a more up-scale version of Wretched Head's party. However, for a teen who couldn't get into an actual club, it was about as close to the real thing as possible

Reid was amazed by how many blue lights flooded the large room and how many people they could cram into one place. The music was loud, banging in his ears and puncturing his ear drums as he roamed up to the bar, still taking in the stark white furniture, and retro style waterfalls around the room.

He watched a man who had been sitting in a bar stool stand up quickly, the cold beer already half-way chugged as he stumbled to the dance floor.

Reid snatched up the seat quickly, putting a hand to his head as the bar tender came rushing down to him. "What'd ya' want, Kid?"

"...I dunno. I've..never drank at a club before."

"What's your poison? Alcohol wise? Scotch? Rum? Vodka?" His voice was smooth, and his slick voice was obviously that of a mischievous one.

"I usually drink wine." Reid murmured sadly.

The bartender gave out a small laugh, "Look, you look like your trying to escape some troubles, eh?"

Reid swallowed, but did not propose any different reason for coming. "It's your first club scene, right, kid? Alright, look. I'ma hook you up. On the house in honor of your first club, nerd-o, but you gotta drink the _whole _thing. I guarantee you'll be escaping all of your problems fast with this baby."

Reid looked up with a small smile, "I think I'll manage."

It was within just a few minutes that the bartender came back, practically throwing the drink at him which he waited slyly, for him to take a drink of.

"What is it?"

"Nuh uh uh. Drink it, man. Just do it."

Reid pressed his lips together and even though his brain told him no, for once he followed his heart.

* * *

><p><em>Sunday <em>

_1:22 AM_

* * *

><p>"Go Spencer! Go Spencer! Go Spencer!" The voices chanted, but it was nothing but a pool of illiterate jibber-jabber to him as he stumbled over his own feet repeatedly.<p>

"Woohoo!" He yelled, throwing his fist in the air, a dark beverage within a mug in his hand as he continued dancing to the beat of the club music.

"Woohoo!" The crowd called back as barely dressed women smiled, their high faces and alcohol-drenched breath breathing in his face.

He laughed and chugged the last bit of his drink, slamming it on a random table quickly before maneuvering through the crowd, though his planned maneuvers were nothing more than some drunk stumbling and stepping on men's toes who were too drunk to notice.

He laughed as he finally made it to the men's restroom, entering the quiet room. A few men were there as well, one puking in a toilet bowl, hair drenched with sweat and back quivering in fear. The other was zipping his pants and making his way out.

Reid ran his hands under the water and slapped some water in his face as he looked into the mirror, realizing just for a moment what he'd been doing for the last hour or so. Sucking down alcohol like it was air.

He felt his body clench up in shame and his stomach do a flip. Why had he done this to himself? The colors- too bright. The sounds-too loud. His mind- too slow. The room-..spinning..

He ran into an empty bathroom stall, puking everything he possibly could into the toilet bowl, hands clenched onto the porcelain and warm face lying on the cold rim, and for once he didn't care how many germs were on that toilet seat, he only cared about this entire experience fading away from his mind once and for all.

"Some boys are just smarter than others. I should have tried to drag you out of here from the minute you entered..I'm sorry, Spencer.." She whispered carefully, though the words bounced back and force in his head like a pin-ball, beating his brain until it knew no more.

He couldn't make out the words into anything he'd understand and instead, allowed submissively, for the stranger to grab him by the shoulders and drag him out into the chilled night air. He looked up, eyes adjusting to the dark, to see the dark sky, a crescent moon bouncing back into his eyes. This was the last thing he saw before his world turned black.

* * *

><p><em>Sunday<em>

_8:00AM_

* * *

><p>Reid opened his eyes to be met with a bright and blinding light which he quickly shielded with his eyelids. After a moment of swirling sickness deep within stomach, he re-opened them, more prepared for what lie in store for him.<p>

He sighed, the taste of alcohol still on his breath, and that was when half of the previous night came back. The first half.

His mother..her surgery..he needed to get to his phone..but..but where was it?

He blinked a couple more times and out of habit, looked over to see what time it was on the alarm clock.

There wasn't one, only a french-country style side table that he was unfamiliar with and much different to the modern table that had been in his hotel suit.

He blinked rapdily, looking around the room in shock, heart racing in his chest.

"You're awake.."

Reid looked around, the the room still fuzzy and bright, but noticeably it was not his hotel room. He squinted, but could only make out outlines. The voice though..it sounded. Familiar..and young. Not like a high school teen, but a woman. A young woman.

"Don't worry, that'll all go away soon, honey. I found you drunk, outside a bar. You didn't look like the usual scum that went in their..I just thought I'd bring you here until you sobered up and let you wander back to your hotel room afterwards."

Hotel room? how had she known he was staying in a..-

"You're probably wondering if I'm some psychic, huh? No, no. I found this room key in your pocket. Are you feeling okay?" She rambled quickly, putting the plastic down onto the french-style side table, before picking up a glass of water and bringing it to his lips.

He drank it gratefully and nodded soon afterwards, "I'm fine..thank you. I won't bother you anymore, but..don't think I'm ungrateful. I'm lucky you were there or I would've been fired...from my job..they probably would have found me there.." He murmured, sitting up quickly, noticing with much relief he was still dressed besides his shoes. "Thanks, again..but I've got somewhere I'm supposed to be and probably late. Do you happen to know the time?"

The woman smiled, and she handed him a pair of sunglasses, "Here, I bought them this morning when I went out and got groceries. I figured you'd probably have a hangover."

He smiled lightly, slipping them on without even so much as looking at them. "Thanks.."

"It's eight, in the morning, of course."

He nodded, "Okay..I can probably make it back without too many questions. Thank you, really."

She nodded, "Oh, I figured you were on a business trip, staying at such a nice hotel with no lady at the club with you and all. So I toasted you some bagels and baked some pastries, then I went down to that starbucks and got four coffee's, I hope that'll be enough? You can use that as an excuse to being out..save you a hand-slapping from your boss."

Reid looked genuinely shocked, "You didn't have to do all that."

"No, I insist. Go ahead, quick, while they're warm, and there should be a taxi outside by now." She gave another warm smile that Reid was beginning to be able to see behind the sunglasses, but he gave one last grateful smile, and ran down the stairs where it was a living room which lead to an obvious old-country looking kitchen, grabbed the bag and tray of coffee, and true to his word, there lied a taxi.

He looked around the scenery outside for a moment, but took little time in doing this due to the bright, blinding sunlight. his head still throbbed, but he figured that maybe he had slept through the worst of the hangover? He wasn't sure, maybe his pain tolerance was just higher since he took a shot to the leg.

He'd never had a hangover before.

He clambered inside the taxi, and set everything down before sighing out a breath of relief. "Can you take me to the Four Seasons?"

"You got the money, I got the destination." He replied gruffly before setting down the street.

Reid looked back at the small country-home located in the middle of what appeared to be nowhere, before he turned back around. Wandering if perhaps that mysterious woman who had saved his life, just so happened to be his guardian angel.

He sighed, realizing that Hotch and Morgan were probably searching every nook and cranny of Maine at the moment, looking for him, tracing leads and calling Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia.

It was too early in the morning for this.

* * *

><p>8:45 AM<p>

* * *

><p>Reid walked quietly into the hotel lobby, removing the sunglasses from his face and disposing of them quickly, finding the light didn't seem to bothering him as much as earlier and it was perfectly tolerable, though annoying.<p>

His mind was coming back slowly and took a large swig of coffee, hoping to both increase his energy, brain power, and decrease the smell of alcohol on his breath.

He cleared his throat, stepping into the elevator quickly, pressing floor number five, and praying that Hotch and Morgan were still asleep or just now getting ready, never noticing he had gone anywhere.

He walked briskly, his nerves reaching higher and higher as time passed on and suspension left him hanging by a thread. He had no idea on what they were doing at the moment and this bothered him to no end.

His fear of the dark was not so straight forward. of course he disliked the dark because of it's inherent lack of light, but it did not end there. He also hated being _left _in the dark, or rather, not knowing what was happening.

He figured that perhaps subconsciously, his fear of being left out of the loop of things, worked it's way into being a phobia of the dark as well, because he associated the dark with secrets, lies, and deceit.

He looked down the hall and at the room numbers, but it seemed like the corridor would never end, as though it were stretching faster than he could run.

However, despite his insane fears, the corridor's trek _did _come to end and soon he was met at his room number, where he dug the room key from his pocket and stuck it inside his room door.

He closed his eyes momentarily, and when they re-opened..

No one.

He sighed a breath of relief, though, a small part of him, wished to high heaven that they would be in there, looking for him, so he could walk in shocked and surprised, blink a moment and question them for their insane behavior. Then comment he only went out to get coffee.

The conversation and fear could have been stopped there.

He sighed and as he walked in, upon habit, attempted to stick the room key within his bag.

But found himself on hitting empty air, and suddenly a revelation came.

How could the woman have found the room key in his pocket when obviously he had stuck within his messenger? His heart raced once more and he looked around the room, hearing the door click quickly behind him.

He swallowed and across the room lied the table, his messenger wide open.

But he had never opened it.

She had been in there, had grabbed his room key because he forgot it when he went out. But how had she known he forgotten it if she wasn't in his room?

A gasp was caught in his mouth and he quivered with disgust and fear before looking at the closet doors. A small crack open.

She had been..in his closet?

The woman in his room that night he had a nightmare, back in his apartment. He hadn't been paranoid. The night he had been woken by a maid due to his screaming, the woman hadn't been a maid, she posing as one. That woman also hid in his closet, since she had a master key. Hid in his closet at night and watched him sleep...followed him to the club, and dragged him back to her house.

He was being stalked?

But there was no way to be sure about any of that. What if he had just slipped the key in his pocket on accident for once? Perhaps this was all just some paranoia created in his mind by inconclusive theories and ideas.

The woman hadn't kidnapped him, she was genuinely nice, and even saved him from getting yelled at by Hotch from a night of partying when he should have been sleeping in his hotel room.

She had shown him hospitality.

If she had such odd intentions, she would have never allowed him to escape from her home. She could have drugged him, killed him, whatever she had so pleased, but she didn't.

No, he had to be wrong.

For once, he just _had _to be wrong, besides, his mother needed him, his team needed him, and those kidnapped teenagers needed him.

He didn't have the time to play along with these psychotic delusions.

* * *

><p><strong>Please Review! It means a lot when you do, and I get motivation to update faster! <strong>


	7. Realization

**Guardian Angel**

* * *

><p><em>Sunday <em>

_8:23AM_

* * *

><p>"Man, you're the bomb, Reid." Morgan said off-handedly, sticking his hand in the bag, pulling out a cherry-pastry with a small smile before taking a bite that devoured about half the pastry. Within seconds it was gone.<p>

Hotch even offered a small appreciative smile along with a nod, "Did you get sesame seed bagels?" He murmured before pulling out what he guessed to be one and nodded in approval when it was.

Reid pressed his lips and offered a very faint smile before grabbing his coffee and sitting down in a chair, crossing one leg over the other to expose a blue sock.

Luckily, Reid had hit the ultimate jackpot. When he'd gotten back, he jumped in the shower and changed into a black button-up, with a dark grey tie, black pants, and of course, his converse. Finished within five minutes, and then blowing drying his hair and such took about another five.

Around the time he had finished, he'd knocked on the door for it to be opened by a still barefoot Hotch, just then slipping on his shoes.

He'd made it back in the nick of time.

"You're not going to eat something before we leave?" Morgan questioned oddly, with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Oh, no. I'm fine, I had a bagel on the way back. Didn't eat a very big dinner last night."

Morgan shrugged and stuck his hand inside the bag once more before exposing a cheese danish, this time his pace much slowly as he picked up his coffee.

Hotch picking up his own coffee as well, before sitting down beside Reid, "So, we've got the address of Smitty.." Reid murmured.

"Yeah, the kid's pretty much screwed. No way he woke up before eight on a weekend. I know I never did." Morgan replied with a smile.

Reid smiled slightly for a moment before letting out a small chuckle which Hotch followed along with after a second.

* * *

><p><em>Sunday<em>

_9:00AM_

* * *

><p>Walking up the house carefully, hands extended forward with guns, Hotch knocked on the door with force, readjusting his vest quickly as the woman answered the door, her face full of panic as she noticed the situation.<p>

"Wh-What do you people want? I've done nothing wrong.."

Hotch shook his head, "Mrs. Smitty? We are looking for your son." Hotch replied in a stoic manner, looking directly into her frightened eyes with enough determination to make her let out a soft squeal.

"S-Sure.." The rat-faced looking woman replied, brushing her hands down her long pink apron, stepping back to allow them entrance. They followed inside, the woman walking quietly to a room in which she knocked on. She opened she door calmly and entered into the dark room, the only light coming from a desk, the face of a chubby teen looked up, round, metal-framed glasses glinting in the light as he turned towards the door.

"Tyler? It's the police..they w-want to see you." She whispered shakily before stepping back out of the room, allowing the two to enter, switching on the lights reveal the glaring boy, his face watching their every move.

"What? What is it? I've got too much homework to deal with this."

Morgan gave out a small laugh, "That's not exactly your main concern right now. Your main concern, Tyler, is the fact that you kidnapped teenagers from three different schools."

"Nine of them to be exact." Reid added as though the conversation had moved onto an everyday subject.

"All of which are presumably still alive." Hotch finished, hands crossed in front of his chest, "Now, you're going to tell us where they are, Tyler, or you'll be held custody until we figure it out ourselves."

".." The boy was silent, eyes pouring over the contents of the paper, "I didn't hurt them." He whispered carefully, "I promise I didn't. I just wanted..I just wanted to teach them a lesson. Make a point. We all did."

Morgan looked at Hotch who then looked down at Tyler, "Whose _'we'_?" Hotch questioned, arms still folded in unseen anger.

"..Steven Wilbur and Madison Lafferty...we're just..were nerds, ya' know? Tired of being treated like this. I kidnapped them, Steven watched over them, Madison planned it all. We worked like a team."

Morgan opened his cuffs, grabbing him forcefully by the arms, slapping them on his wrists, "Don't worry, where you and your friend are going, nerds don't exist. Tell us where you hid them."

Tyler pushed his lips together, brows furrowed in anger at his new found predicament. "I can't."

"Tell us." Hotch ordered, squeezing his shoulder tightly with his hand, looking determined down at the young teen, "Tell us Tyler, or they might die."

Tyler shook his head, "They wouldn't do it."

"You don't know what you've done, tell us now." Hotch continued, staring deeply within the glistening eyes of Tyler Smitty.

"...Fine. I'll help you find the way, but I don't know the directions or anything. I just know how to get there.." He whispered after a minute of unresolved silence.

* * *

><p><em>Sunday<em>

_11:00PM_

* * *

><p><em>'<em>_Reid? Reid, is that you?' _

_'Yeah, mom. I-It's me..what's wrong?' _

_He could only watch as his mother gagged, blood pushing up between her teeth as it leaked down the sides of her face. He held back his gagging and smiled down at her as though nothing was wrong, his expression drenched with pity. _

_'Spencer, know that I love you. Please know it. I'm dying but..' _

_'D-Dying? M-Mom, no. You can't be..' _

_'Good bye, Spencer..' _

His body jerked forward from his place on the silent couch, breath labored and hands trembling as he felt hot tears rolls down his cold face.

He looked carefully around the plane and let out a sigh of relief when he saw the the other two were still sleeping soundly in their respective seats.

The plane ride home was mostly silent, containing only three passengers in the late hours of the evening, they mostly slept, waking up perhaps once due to turbulence, but other than that, they slept on soundly, another case being solved, finished, and closed with none of the teens being dead.

Reid let out another shaky sigh and swallowed down the small sob dying within his throat as he let out a soft guttural noise, lips trembling in fear.

Was the dream a warning?

Of cours not, he didn't believe in dream analysis..right?

He shakily reached inside his pant pocket and scrolled through his call log to see that no one had tried to contact him, meaning no new news on his mother.

He slowly got up, stumbling inside the the miniature bathroom, quickly splashing some water on his face to calm himself down, before exiting and walking back to his seat on the couch. The silence was cold, wrapping around his nervous heart as he blinked at the sight of a sunrise appearing through the small plane of the window.

He shook his leg and let his fingers dig within the material, almost enough to pierce his skin.

* * *

><p><em>Monday<em>

_12:00AM_

* * *

><p>Spencer Reid, once more, awoke to a cold sweat and soft tremors all over his body, the image still fresh in his mind of his mother's dying body.<p>

This time he did not attempt to push back the sobs caught within his throat, but instead released them quietly, his body wracking with anguish, tears pouring down his face. The little news he was given on his mothers condition just before checking out of the hotel did nothing to help.

The only optimistic piece of information the doctor could present to him was that his mother's chances hadn't gone down.

He clenched his first around the sheets and shook, his sobs of desperation for his mothers life going unheard by anyone he knew of.

The woman, in the closet, however, stood stark still, tears traveling down her face, her breathing becoming sightly uneven. "Tell me..what is it? Your mother, I know, I know. But what can I do? What can I do, Spencer?"

Reid hunched over, feeling the onset of a headache come about, but ignored it as his breathed became ragged, "At least..least.." He mumbled, repeating himself due to his shocked state, "..at least..let her be..c-comfortable..I know what the doctor means..she's not going to live..I know..I know.."

The woman put a hand on the cool wood of the door, "No, Spencer..No, don't be upset. I'll make this better.." She whispered quietly, her eyes watching his form through the crack in door, slowly lie back down, body still shaking silently.

It wasn't until about an hour later did the body go still and silent. She slowly walked out of the closet, turning to crouch down beside his bed and look at the tear-stroked face of the younger man.

She put a hand on his face, "I'll make this better, Spencer. I will.." She whispered before turning and walking out the door, fleeing from the apartment, and out of the complex, and finally to her car, where with determined eyes, she clutched the backpack in the seat beside her. "I'll make this better."

* * *

><p><em>Monday<em>

_2:00PM_

* * *

><p>His heart was sore. Sore from all the pain and weight being put on it. Up until the second phone call, right before checking out of the hotel in Maine, he barely could even come to terms with the fact that his mother was in the hospital, dying.<p>

His anger on the doctor and night drinking blocked his vision of grief. Which at first, was what he was trying to do, falsely make himself believe nothing wrong was happening. To forget that anything bad was going on. But now, more than ever, he realized what was happening. He twitched nervously in his seat and even found a new habit of picking at his nails every few seconds when the anxiety especially grew worse.

These were the most fatal hours, the hours that would tell him whether or not, for sure, his mother would live or die.

She had been transported to a hospital closer to his location, and he took advantage of this quickly, driving their as soon the doctor called, telling him she was stable and visitable, though in a coma.

So there was, in that hospital at that time, sitting alone in the waiting room, hands quivering as a nurse with red hair slowly made her way towards him, "Dr. Spencer Reid?"

He looked up into the cold eyes of the nurse who sighed, "You can see your mother now."

He sighed in relief, "Thank You." He whispered as he moved past her quickly, and practically sprinted through the halls of the hospital. It was sterile, bright white, and smelled of weird, sickly, food, but he ignored all these details as he read the numbers on the doors.

He swallowed when he finally made it to her room.

_'409'_

He put a hand on the door handle, feeling the thermal energy of his hand leave and enter into the doorknob, giving him the false impression that the metallic handle was colder than room temperature.

He shook his head and finally pushed into the room, looking at the woman lying on the hospital bed.

It looked nothing like his mother.

Even after she had fallen into her depression when he was young, her skin held some form of radiancy. Now, lying in the sterile white sheets, skin paler than that of the snow-white walls, she looked as though death was closer than ever.

He let out another shaky breath, feeling the hot tears come back to roll down his face as he slowly took the seat beside her bed, "Mom? They say that ninety percent of coma patients claim that they heard everything that was said while in a comatose state..but..I just..I hope you're not part of the other ten percent."

He gave a small smile, but the happiness he tried to desperately to display, could not reach his heart. He swallowed the lump in his throat forcefully, and the frown took over once more.

"..I just want you to know that I'm proud to be your son..and there's not one day I go by...without being proud..I love you.."

It was silent in the room between them for a moment, the only noise the sound of the heart monitor beeping every few moments. Slowly, but steadily.

A knock suddenly came at the door, and Reid stood, thinking it would be the doctor, though when the door opened, he was greeted by a different group.

The Team.

* * *

><p><strong>Hmm..How <em>exactly <em>is she going to make it better? Who knows? How did the team know he was in the hospital with his mother? What will they say at a dark time like this? Who knows?..Well..me but anyway... Please review! I don't really mind WHAT you say, critique as much as you want, or as little. I don't mind. Just review, please! **


	8. Lullabies

**Guardian Angel**

* * *

><p><em>Monday<em>

_8:00AM_

* * *

><p>Reid sat up in his bed, awaking from the dream with a start.<p>

It had seemed..so real.

He checked the time on the clock, and swallowed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

He could have sworn that all of which he had previously dreamed, had been real. Rushing through the hospital corridor, entering his mother's room, and then the team entering with sympathetic faces. It was all a dream..

Though the part that awoke him, was when they begun yelling at him that it was all his fault that his mother had landed in her current position.

He shook, blinking back tears for what seemed like the umpteenth time. He put a protective hand on his cellphone and once again checked through the call log. The suspense was murdering him slowly.

The last time he had talked was before checking out of the hotel, of course, and that must have been what brought up the dream. The most pathetic information the doctor could give to him was his mother was neither good nor bad.

She was in limbo.

He shook his head upon receiving no answer and slammed the phone back onto the night-table. Sitting for a moment, pondering what he should do.

He stood, eyes connecting with the open closet door.

_Open?_

He blinked furiously, confused by the sight. He was so sure he had closed those doors.

He shook his head, delusional again, and the fear of schizophrenia overtaking him rose within his stomach once more for only the millionth time in his life, however, the fear was dulled by the pain and tragedy he felt at the moment.

The betrayal.

He knew he shouldn't feel that way. Feel as though his mother was betraying him by attempting suicide. He knew it was wrong, but when she was the last piece of family he had left, and when she was the woman he had taken care of since he was eight, and when she was the one he devoted his life to after his father left, he felt more than just a knife being stuck within his heart and twisted.

He felt as though he had been picked up and strangled to death. Slowly..painfully..bloody..

He swallowed carefully, his throat raw from nasal drainage he guessed.

His father left, and now, his mother was going to leave him? To be quite honest, he was sure how much more he could take. He felt as though his world was being shredded to pieces, and all while he guessed he was losing his mind.

He couldn't even remember whether he closed a closet door or not anymore.

* * *

><p><em>Monday <em>

_8:30 AM_

* * *

><p>"Mrs. Reid.." She whispered carefully, hand on the sleeping woman's shoulder, she awoke slowly, her eyes blinking a couple times before she shakily shook her head, "W-Where am I?"<p>

"Don't worry..I'm going to help." She replied carefully, pushing the woman's blonde hair back, "I'm a nurse.."

Diana blinked rapidly, "W-What's that for?"

"It's to help you sleep. That's what you wanted, right? To sleep? Forever?" She reminded, a look of pure hatred on her face, "Mrs. Reid, do you know what trouble you've caused?"

"..I..I didn't realize that I had-" Diana begun softly, attempting to sit up in pure panic of what the brunette nurse was actually doing.

"..Mrs. Reid." She whispered back as though scolding a small child, "..Yes you have. You've realized. You just don't care. You've caused almost all of Spencer's suffering throughout life. You wanted to eliminate yourself, I want to eliminate you, and to be honest, even though Spencer doesn't realize it, it's in his best interest the you _are _eliminated."

The woman shook with terror, "I..I thought I was getting worse..I just wanted-"

"Hush now, child." She whispered, hooking the drip system up carefully before flicking the small glass tube connecting it to the IV.

Diana let a few tears roll down her face as she helplessly looked on to the woman, sob emitting into the air, but all that heard, were cold, uncaring, ears.

"Your tears.. mean nothing to me.." The woman whispered, putting a hand on the schizophrenic woman's arm, with a smile,

"..Here's a lullaby to close your eyes.." She sang quietly, "It was always you that I despised..I don't feel enough for you to cry..Here's a lullaby to close your eyes.."

"Do you know why lullabies were made, Diana?.." She whispered as the older woman slowly closed her eyes, hot tears still streaming down her face, "..It was to lull you until you went..bye bye.."

"No..I won't..won't...won't..." Diana murmured, fighting off the darkness wanting to consume her, she turned her head slowly, and with what little energy she had left, slapped the large red emergency button.

"N-No!" The nurse screamed in terror as she quickly began to rip the IV's out, though this rendered useless. The IV only dug deeper and sliced the schizophrenic woman's dermis deeply.

She screamed in pain and the nurse desperately tried to escape the situation, fleeing for the door when another nurse came rushing in, her eyes giving the other a mysterious look.

"Marsha? What's going o-...why do you have that hooked to Diana? Y-You..know what that is..Why aren't you helping her..?" The other nurse searched for answers other than the ones she knew most likely to be true.

She stared back into the pleading eyes of the brunette, "Marsha, no.." She whispered, and shook her head before opening the door, "Get her!" The nurse screamed, pushing the other nurse into the hall where she was grabbed by confused passing doctors, holding her carefully.

Marsha squirmed beneath their strong hands, and watched in horror as the IV was pulled, and the woman's heart monitor slowly went back to normal.

"I'm so sorry, Spencer. I've failed you.."

* * *

><p><em>Monday<em>

_9:00AM_

* * *

><p>Reid sat quietly as he listened to the doctor explain the situation only happening moments ago. His mother had just been the victim of a tried-murder, and only moments after being transported to a few states closer towards Virginia. It was still about a four hour drive, though it was definitely better than a one day, four hour, and fourteen minute drive, when he managed to be able to visit her.<p>

"C-Can I speak to her?" Reid asked quietly, standing outside the round-table room as the team chatted over various topics inside, awaiting a new case to roll in.

"I'm afraid that she's drifted into a coma, Dr. Reid. I apologize for having to deliver this bad news."

"What was the woman's name?"

"Who, Doctor?"

"The woman who attempted to kill my mother?" He asked again, incredulous that the doctor on the other line, would even suspect he met anyone else.

It was quiet over the line for a moment, "Her name was Marsha. Marsha Bakers. Unfortunately, she..escaped. We have the police on her..but.."

Reid's heart skipped a beat, and suddenly things fell into place.

That woman all those days ago, who had bandaged her hand. Was it chance that she had an extra umbrella for him? The maid from the hotel in Maine- she had looked exactly like that woman, and as he recalled, it wasn't that he had forgotten to look at her name tag, it was that she wasn't _wearing _one. She was perpetrating. Was it chance that she had just so happened to hear him screaming? No. She had been in his closet.

Was it chance that the woman who had carried him to her own house had looked like her as well? No, of course not. It was her again. She had been in his closet at his home, in his hotel room. Everywhere.

Following him stealthily.

But for what reason, if only to kill his mother?

He breathed for a moment, shaking his head, she had so many chances to strike him out, kidnap him, or..

He swallowed in disgust, swallowing his thoughts, deciding he'd rather not think of the other options. However, the point established was that even though everything now fell together to create the puzzle, pieces were missing.

He blinked rapidly, "Doctor, please guard my Mother's room. Listen to me, don't let _anyone _in her room. Guard the windows, check the bathroom and closets. You are dealing with a very skilled woman, who is a stealth expert. I have reason to believe she may come back. I'll be working on catching her, call me if anything changes with my mother."

He clicked the phone off, entering the round table room once more to be greeted with curious eyes, "I wasn't paranoid."

* * *

><p><strong>Review! Please! <strong>

-Ahh...And now the true case begins. Who is Marsha Bakers? How will they be able to find her? _Can _they find her?


	9. Hallelujah

**Guardian Angel**

* * *

><p><em>Monday <em>

_2:30PM_

* * *

><p>It was silent for a moment before anyone even so much as made a noise. Reid sat stark still in his chair, listening nervously to the sound of everyone just breath.<p>

"Reid, man, I'm sorry about what happened to your mom, but you should have told us you thought you were being stalked for real. This is crazy shit if you're right about this." Morgan murmured lowly, looking seriously into the hazel eyes of the younger agent.

"..And let's face it. You're usually right." Prentiss replied, attempting to light the atmosphere a bit, with a soft smile. "But, Reid. none of this is your fault, okay?"

"I never said I thought that it was." Reid replied a bit defensive, looking down at his hands nervously as he let out a silent sigh.

"..You didn't have to. You work with profilers, kid." Rossi replied, leaning back in his chair.

"This is serious stuff, Reid. Obviously she's been keeping close tabs on you. She even knew of an FBI mission and the exact location of where we were going. Hotel room and all. She either has access to data bases or-"

"..No, she.." Reid started, looking up sheepishly, "..she's just snooped in my apartment a lot, I actually keep tabs about everything we're doing and where. My eidetic memory works up to thirty-percent more efficiently when I write out things myself. Actually, did you know-"

"Reid." Morgan interrupted, shaking his head slowly.

"Sorry." Reid whispered dejectedly, biting his upper lip now in anxiety, "I think she's going to go back..." Reid finally said in the thickest of the silence, "She's determined."

"Are there people guarding her?" JJ asked carefully, watching his expression as he slowly nodded.

It was evident and not too surprising to the team that the youngest had gone into somewhat of a shocked state. Nightmares, stalkers, and his mother's close touch to death, would most likely do that to anyone. However, it was also evident and crucial that had try to be strong.

"Reid, what was her name?" Hotch asked slowly, leaning forward on the table in anticipation as he watched the young agent blink a moment or two before looking up.

"Marsha Bakers."

* * *

><p><em>Monday <em>

_4:00PM_

* * *

><p>It hadn't taken as long to track the woman as they initially thought. Of course it took some serious computer hacking skills and digging to figure out where she lived and her background.<p>

Apparently she had been abandoned by her parent's at the age of five, and went from foster home to foster home until the age of fifteen when she was finally adopted.

However, they ended up mysteriously dying a few months after her eighteenth birthday in which she finished high school, did not go to college, and bought an apartment not too far from Reid's, her second house of course being in Maine which she had inherited as well.

She had come into a fairly large sum of money with their death.

She was emotionless, having absolutely no empathy. She was a classic case of an obsessive psychopath. She found her fix to be Reid, where she thought that bettering his life would also better her own and make-up for the lack of love she was given as a child.

Her sense of right and wrong was obviously thrown off by years of mental abuse.

Upon entering the apartment, a strong scent of apples and cinnamon over whelmed them all, the darkness almost threatening. Music played lowly, a soft chanting taking over the ominous room, filled with candles, lighting up random sections of the walls which were filled with nothing but posters of Reid.

"Woah..talk about obsessed, huh, Kid? She worshiped you.." Rossi whispered as they continued carefully inside the house, bullet-proof vests and arms extended with guns firmly in grip.

They continued to advance into the house, seeing her obsession turn more and more serious. Pictures of him hung at every corner, each a different one, some even having been taken by her, herself.

Articles of his work hung proudly in picture frames as though he were her son, and the room was clean of anything except a couch, a table, and books stacked all around the room, mostly being religious texts.

Reid shuddered out of the cold grip of disgust and continued through the room, noticing how his own face seemed to glare down at him, but Reid could only attempt to continue.

"..Reid? Spencer? Are you proud for my attempt? I'm sorry that I failed, but if you'll assist me, I can finish the job I set out upon doing." The voice came from behind a closed door, and all heads turned in shock towards it.

The chanting also seemed to be coming from there, floating out from the crack left in the door. Reid swallowed, holstering his gun and pushing the door open slightly to the see that there were no candles in this room. Only darkness.

Black out curtains lined every window, and it was absolutely impossible to see anything. "Marsha?" Reid questioned, though he already he knew the answer, "What you've done is wrong. I need you to come out of this room, hands up."

The woman did not reply but let out a hurt whimper instead, "Spencer..Spencer, how could you say this? Don't you realize what's best for you? I do..I do, Spencer. Your mother is _problem! _She's only been a burden on you! Let her die peacefully..let her die. Let me help.."

"Marsha, my mother was never a burden to me." Reid replied quietly, voice shaking slightly at even the thought that his mother had come so close to dying, "You need to be in a place where people can help you.."

"What? What'd you mean, Spencer? Spencer, no..You think I'm as crazy as your mother, don't you?"

Spencer felt a certain rage grasp his heart, "I need you to step out of the room, now, or I may have to shoot."

It was quiet, before the sound of soft sobs made it to his ears, "I'm so sorry, Spencer..I've failed you. I..I thought this was my purpose, to protect you..but..but I've shown to be more of hinderance..." A sudden light flickered inside the room, illuminating the woman's tear streaked face and long dark hair, she swallowed and slowly let her hand drop to the sheet of the bed, lighter still within her hand.

Reid blinked, not being able to believe what he was seeing, as he watched her with her other hand, set down the bucket of gasoline beside her bed.

He watched with hopelessness as the fire quickly set ablaze from the bed sheet to her naked body. "No.." Reid murmured, rushing inside the room, his head filled with cries for help.

A sudden hand pulled him and he turned to see Morgan, head shaking, as he went inside instead, running towards the woman's nude body filled with burning fire.

Morgan quickly removed his own shirt, attempting to extinguish the only growing fire.

Reid turned his head quickly as she sat up, eyes wide and mouth open, laughing in glee at the death that would soon befall her.

He swallowed, remembering the giant frying head in his dream all those nights ago, and upon remembrance, he couldn't help but wonder if it could have possibly been a premonition.

The room smelled, and the screaming died down slowly until it eventually was silent except for labored breath. Morgan turned around and exited the room, blinking slowly for a moment, looking down at the ground before shaking his head.

"At least you put out the fire.." Reid murmured optimistically, stuffing his hands within his pockets before looking into the room once more, the practically coal skin and the unmoving, limp, body.

He swallowed, closing his eyes for a minute.

_"..Hallelujah.." _

Reid looked slowly towards the radio that sat on the dresser, suddenly realizing the words being chanted were in latin that roughly translated to,

_'Thank God, my lord, that we have come together at last. Women fight off satan with their last breath, child clinging to their naked breast. Dead within the shifting sands, this battle was bloody one. But our lord and savior, Jesus, will guide us to safety tonight. The blood that runs in my veins, not poured upon the crimson sands, is thanks to you.' _

These lyrics were repeated over and over for the few minutes as they all simply stood there, the smell of burning skin caught within their throats.

* * *

><p><em>Monday <em>

_5:00PM_

* * *

><p>"I remember them, Spencer, don't act like I need to be babied." Diana cut off her sons introductions with a soft snap, and gave a smile at the rest of them.<p>

Reid gave a soft smile and sighed lightly, exhaustion suddenly taking over him, though he did allow himself to give himself over to it.

He put a hand on his mother's shoulder and she looked up at him with her eyes, large and glassy. She looked away, quickly, her breath caught within her throat.

"You caught that woman, didn't you, Spencer?"

Reid's grin widened slightly, "Yeah..she's dead, Mom."

She nodded, "Well, no one deserves death, but at least she can't harm anyone anymore." She replied quietly taking her sons hands within her own.

"Your safe now, Mrs. Reid. There's nothing to worry about." Hotch reassured her with a comforting curve of his lips, folding his arms after a moment.

"Thank You, Agent Hotchner." She replied, "I've been meaning to say Thank You for a lot of things actually, to you."

Hotch looked at her confused for a moment, though the same smile rested on his lips and his voice was considerably softer than usual, "What's that Mrs. Reid?"

"..I wanted to say Thank You.. for looking after Spencer..it's almost embarrassing when a mother can't do her own job." Diana whispered with a slightly quivering voice and she sucked in a breath quickly, "..but you make the days go by easier for me, when I think that I know you would never let anything happen to my Spencer."

Spencer swallowed in the uncomfortable position he was in, and his boss shook his head with a small laugh, "Mrs. Reid, I don't believe your son needs much protecting."

Reid blinked for a moment before giving his mother a disturbed look as she looked up with tears in her eyes, "Spencer, I'm so sorry..I shouldn't have done all this to you..I caused you so much pain.."

Reid's face contorted into a miserable smile as his shook his head, blinking away the tears, "No, no. It's okay, don't worry."

Reid replied quietly, bending over quickly to bring her into a warm embrace, "Don't ever think you haven't done your job." He whispered and she gave out a small laugh before shaking her head and breathing in slowly.

"Don't correct your mother, Spencer." She scolded playfully before letting go of the hug.

* * *

><p><em>2 Months Later<em>

_Friday_

_10:00PM_

* * *

><p>Eyes fervently scanned his still form, and a mouth slowly was drawn up in a small smile in the silence and darkness of the room. She had noticed his lock had been changed, so she had to of course, get a new blank ket, make the imprint by jamming it in his lock, and get it cut.<p>

That had been a hassle itself, but in edition to this new key lock, a punch-in-pad had been made. It took her just a day, however, to hack into the security camera that lined every hallway and follow his hand movement to decode the numbers.

Now, her face deformed and hair mostly gone, only growing in small patches, she watched with baited breath as he turned, and was relieved by the sight of a small smile on his face.

"..I'll never hurt you again. I promise, Spencer. I'm your Guardian Angel.."

* * *

><p><strong>The End? Perhaps. A <em>sequel?<em> Perhaps. **

**_Please review!_ If you want a _sequel_, make sure to review that you want one or_ I won't know_!**


	10. AN:READ THIS! If you like CM, READ THIS!

**Authors Note**

****I was just wondering. Have any of you read the novel, Heavy Rains: Inferno?

It's free to read on watt which is similar to fan fiction, except everything on there is original work, although there IS some fan fiction on there as well.

At any rate, if you get the chance, look up Heavy Rains: Inferno by BBJewels, she's seriously an AMAZING author and this may surprise you, but she's only fifteen. The story isn't something you'd actually think of a fifteen year old girl writing either. It's super cool and gory with an AMAZING plot line. I'm assured that if you like Criminal Minds, you'll like Heavy Rains.

Heavy Rains Inferno is the first in the series, and I messaged her, asking if there would be more and she said absolutely. The second one is out now as well, though not yet completed, however, she IS working on it as that book is her life. She lives to write.

Anyway, the book is basically about this detective who has a VERY mysterious past and is like Reid in a lot of ways, except he's a TINY bit more serious, and has a more..dark..past as us, the readers, have seen. He's super genius. He's in his early twenties and already has authority over almost everyone in the world. Whatever he requests, he gets.

The president bows to him, the Queen blushes and curtseys.

So, anyway, he has this REALLY weird past, that we don't know much about yet. He CERTAINLY has SOME kind of weird mental disorder lurking in the back of his head though, that much I believe I know for sure. So, I'm not going to spoil anything for the story get's INTENSE.

Alright, so pretty much, these murders start occurring and while he's working on them, he start waking up in weird places and he doesn't remember HOW he got there, and even though it seems like it would be a severe case of sleep walking, it's not. He's going there for a reason and then when he comes back to reality or something..he doesn't have any idea what the hell he's doing there.

Then he starts suspecting that...(wait for it..wait for the twist..)...HE MIGHT BE THE MURDERER?

YIKES! HOW CAN THIS BE POSSIBLE? Read it to find out, seriously, it's my new favorite little unpublished online novel. I can't WAIT for her to start updating the second book.

Her name is BBJewels

Book: Heavy Rains: INFERNO

The second one is Heavy Rains: Skin.

MAKE SURE TO CLICK ON THE "INFERNO" first.

Go! Read it! Now! It's AWESOME.

You like criminal minds? You'll like Heavy Rains. It'll be your home while you wait for new Criminal Minds episodes. You're on fan fiction, you like reading, go read something AMAZING and ORIGINAL.

Alright, I'm done now. Haha! Hope you liked my fan fiction, Guardian Angel, though. I'm hoping to MAYBE make a sequel, I'm still contemplating but it's very very possible. So keep checking back on my profile! I'm DEFINIETLY going to start a new story either way though, and very, very soon.


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